From Central Europe, Nigel Farage does not look like a new phenomenon.
We have seen this archetype before.
During the Brexit years, as one of the loudest voices of BRIX, his anti-EU rhetoric felt strangely familiar to us. The hymns to sovereignty, the defiance of “Brussels elites,” the theatrical rebellion against institutions — none of it was exotic. And the irony of later relocating to France while preaching British self-determination felt less like scandal and more like satire writing itself.
But this is no longer merely a British story. Nor even a European one.
The pattern is global.
From the United States to Latin America, from parts of Eastern Europe to elsewhere, the same political archetype advances: the “strong leader” who blames the system, weaponises sovereignty, and frames criticism as foreign sabotage. And perhaps most unsettling of all — documented facts about foreign ties, questionable funding, or authoritarian sympathies rarely weaken such figures.
Scandal no longer destroys.
It reinforces identity.
A significant segment of voters has become immune to exposure. Not because they fail to understand the facts — but because they no longer trust the institutions presenting them. Media, political elites, traditional parties — their credibility has eroded to such an extent that provocation feels more authentic than consensus.
And here comes the uncomfortable question:
Where have we arrived?
Perhaps at a place where “foreign influence” can be reframed as geopolitical pragmatism.
Where loyalty outweighs transparency.
Where accusations of betrayal dissolve into tribal solidarity.
This is not a European anomaly.
It is a symptom of a broader democratic fatigue.
Illusions Not Included: the question is no longer whether Farage can win.
The question is why facts no longer carry decisive weight — and what that reveals about us, the voters.
Democracy only prevails when it is challenged periodically and comes back renewed eg.Britain has had 80 years of peace within its Nato,the EEC,EU and UN memberships.This period of peace has only been interrupted by avoidable wars such as Falklands,Iraq and even Afghanistan. The average voter has become inured to the sufferings of local former colonial war zones in Africa and the Middle East but we are now being asked to renew our pacts for peace by investing more in defence to fill the vacuum left in leadership by the USA.This ask comes at a time of economic constraints but we know the price of not meeting it is facing the same destruction as Ukraine. Losing faith in parties is one matter but abandoning civic institutions should not be seen as an easy solution.
From a liberal perspective, institutions are not untouchable; they are meant to be exercised responsibly and held accountable. Europe’s long peace was not accidental, but the result of cooperation and deliberate political choices.
My concern, however, is directed less at external challenges than at the internal process we have witnessed in this region. Democracies rarely collapse overnight. They tend to erode gradually: institutions continue to function formally, while trust in them slowly thins — and unfortunately, often for valid reasons.
At such moments, facts do not disappear. They simply lose their persuasive force, because the channels conveying them no longer appear self-evidently credible.
This is what I was trying to describe. Not the failure of democracy, but a condition in which the system still stands, yet the public mood has shifted.
We often see that civic engagement remains limited as long as consequences feel distant and abstract. As long as crisis concerns “others,” as long as destruction does not directly affect one’s sense of security, indifference is more comfortable than responsibility.
When consequences become personal, however, patience tends to evaporate. It is rarely the complex, slow, institutional responses that gain traction in such moments. Instead, the loudest, simplest — and often unrealistic — solutions move to the forefront. They require less understanding and more belief.
This is not the flaw of any single society. It is a recurring human pattern that surfaces in times of uncertainty.
Defence, alliances, and geopolitical responsibility matter. But in the long run, their sustainability depends on whether citizens experience them as shared commitments rather than elite imperatives.
Done! I will be fascinated to see what you find….👍🏻
Thanks Gordon! Great to have you on board
I'm definitely in for this!
💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻
Done 👍
First and only paid Substack subscription 🙏 I’m very interested in this. Especially in the run up to the Scottish elections this year…
I just subscribed for a year, go get him! 🙏
Thanks Annabel!
Can’t subscribe in app apparently, will try another way….
Ping me an email if you’re struggling - bright@bbench.co.uk
My first Substack paid subscription - fully believe in and support what you are trying to achieve
Thanks Rosalyn - hugely appreciated
Great - let’s support and make sure your results fuel counter arguments and changed minds - thank you
Thanks for your support!
From Central Europe, Nigel Farage does not look like a new phenomenon.
We have seen this archetype before.
During the Brexit years, as one of the loudest voices of BRIX, his anti-EU rhetoric felt strangely familiar to us. The hymns to sovereignty, the defiance of “Brussels elites,” the theatrical rebellion against institutions — none of it was exotic. And the irony of later relocating to France while preaching British self-determination felt less like scandal and more like satire writing itself.
But this is no longer merely a British story. Nor even a European one.
The pattern is global.
From the United States to Latin America, from parts of Eastern Europe to elsewhere, the same political archetype advances: the “strong leader” who blames the system, weaponises sovereignty, and frames criticism as foreign sabotage. And perhaps most unsettling of all — documented facts about foreign ties, questionable funding, or authoritarian sympathies rarely weaken such figures.
Scandal no longer destroys.
It reinforces identity.
A significant segment of voters has become immune to exposure. Not because they fail to understand the facts — but because they no longer trust the institutions presenting them. Media, political elites, traditional parties — their credibility has eroded to such an extent that provocation feels more authentic than consensus.
And here comes the uncomfortable question:
Where have we arrived?
Perhaps at a place where “foreign influence” can be reframed as geopolitical pragmatism.
Where loyalty outweighs transparency.
Where accusations of betrayal dissolve into tribal solidarity.
This is not a European anomaly.
It is a symptom of a broader democratic fatigue.
Illusions Not Included: the question is no longer whether Farage can win.
The question is why facts no longer carry decisive weight — and what that reveals about us, the voters.
Democracy only prevails when it is challenged periodically and comes back renewed eg.Britain has had 80 years of peace within its Nato,the EEC,EU and UN memberships.This period of peace has only been interrupted by avoidable wars such as Falklands,Iraq and even Afghanistan. The average voter has become inured to the sufferings of local former colonial war zones in Africa and the Middle East but we are now being asked to renew our pacts for peace by investing more in defence to fill the vacuum left in leadership by the USA.This ask comes at a time of economic constraints but we know the price of not meeting it is facing the same destruction as Ukraine. Losing faith in parties is one matter but abandoning civic institutions should not be seen as an easy solution.
From a liberal perspective, institutions are not untouchable; they are meant to be exercised responsibly and held accountable. Europe’s long peace was not accidental, but the result of cooperation and deliberate political choices.
My concern, however, is directed less at external challenges than at the internal process we have witnessed in this region. Democracies rarely collapse overnight. They tend to erode gradually: institutions continue to function formally, while trust in them slowly thins — and unfortunately, often for valid reasons.
At such moments, facts do not disappear. They simply lose their persuasive force, because the channels conveying them no longer appear self-evidently credible.
This is what I was trying to describe. Not the failure of democracy, but a condition in which the system still stands, yet the public mood has shifted.
We often see that civic engagement remains limited as long as consequences feel distant and abstract. As long as crisis concerns “others,” as long as destruction does not directly affect one’s sense of security, indifference is more comfortable than responsibility.
When consequences become personal, however, patience tends to evaporate. It is rarely the complex, slow, institutional responses that gain traction in such moments. Instead, the loudest, simplest — and often unrealistic — solutions move to the forefront. They require less understanding and more belief.
This is not the flaw of any single society. It is a recurring human pattern that surfaces in times of uncertainty.
Defence, alliances, and geopolitical responsibility matter. But in the long run, their sustainability depends on whether citizens experience them as shared commitments rather than elite imperatives.
My text was not a rejection.
It was a warning.
Tinpot PONCE country 🏴
Joke FINISHED union 📉🇬🇧
🏴☮️🇪🇺
Follow the money https://youtu.be/6j01Q6la25w